Life is so unyielding she sighs mournfully. I wish I had a response to that or that anything I said or did could give her comfort in this moment when she feels so sad. Yet there is nothing of substance I can offer so I give her all I have. I gently rub her shoulders and stay silent. The chirping of the birds off the path sounds louder in the absence of any spoken word and I am grateful for that. Slowly as the tears roll down her face and our breaths sync, my hands come to a rest and in silent communion we watch and wait. The clouds above us hold in silent witness and even the birdsong seems to sound in harmony with the sniffling that she makes. Sometimes there are no words sufficient to answer the pain within. At long last there is motion and the clouds move on, seeming to indicate that their watch is done. The evening sun glimmers over the tree line and I put my hand to my eyes to shield the light and I am for some reason surprised to find out that I too have the remnants of tears on my face. I feel under my hands the tension is gone. Something has broken, something that needed to break. I walk around the bench and sit beside her, wondering what comes now. As she leans her head upon my shoulder and lets loose a sigh that contains a thousand lines, I somehow feel better now. Nothing has changed but our posture. We must soon get up and walk down the path and face another day. My arm tightens around her as I feel her shiver in the evening’s cold. And she whispers in the twilight I am glad to be with you in this place.